So recently I’ve begun to notice my sister, recently married, was starting to pack on the pounds. Having seen a stand-up comic before, I was well aware this is apparently quite normal, as after tricking a man down the aisle, women have been known to kind of give up. As one of the beautiful people however, I wasn’t too keen on becoming associated with an uggo, and so it was that I went about my solemn duty of pointing out that she sure needed to put down the damn cake. Well, as it turns out, Little Miss Has-an-Answer-for-Everything was ready to counter me with “I’m pregnant.”
A likely excuse.
Well, as it turns out, she actually was, which is in itself pretty boring until you think about how it effects me, because I am important. I am now going to be an uncle, and God as my witness, I’m going to be the cool one. I mean, I’ll still be there for the occasional heartwarming bit of advice that succinctly wraps up the little scamps recent endeavors, but I’ll also be the one with the leather jacket and the hot babes. In short, I have to be this kid’s Uncle Jesse.
The need to be the cool uncle is two-fold. For starters, it’s always been one of my life goals to be the cool uncle, because fuck it, it’s not my kid, so I might as well spoil him. Secondly, Dan Jr.’s the spawn of an ultimate fighter so it’s probably for the best that I am always on the kid’s good side.
Now, as I see it, there are two equally important avenues to making my goal: spoiling the kid rotten to win his adoration, tosand smearing the competition to assure I don’t get relegated Uncle Joey status. Continue reading